Oops
by 123montana321
Summary: A post episode fic for 7x09.  What will Lindsay do when she finds out Danny was messing around with guns and fists?


**Hi. First story on here so I hope its ok. Characters belong to CBS.**

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Danny and Flack came into the precinct ribbing each other about the take down. This, of course, got back to Lindsay Messer. Danny knew better than to talk about the fight in the same way with her as he had with Flack. But that did not stop some one from sharing his conversation with Flack, a _private_ conversation_,_ with his wife.

The guy he got in a fight with was an idiot, that was for sure. Lindsay Messer was not. When Danny got back to the lab and stepped off the elevator, he saw Lindsay at a distance and she saw him. He knew she saw him and yet she kept going. That put a tingle inside him. He had gotten those tingles now for a while, since meeting her and knowing her opinion of him mattered. So maybe he'd promised not to do the stupid stuff anymore. But he was not sure how she had known. Then he winced and he felt his busted lip. He would have thought she would be worried and have sympathy. He had actually looked forward to the sympathy.

Whereever she'd disappeared to, he could not find her, not fast enough to warrant the search. He thought of calling her, but he was not sure that he wanted her to answer. He made his way to the lab and dragged on a lab coat. He was going to have to dig his way out of this one.

He jumped when something was slapped down at his side. He saw the hand and the flash of her wedding ring before he heard her say, "You might want to put this on those bruises otherwise they'll stick around longer."

By the time he looked, she was already walking away. He went after her, of course. He had not yet gotten any evidence out. He grabbed her arm and pleaded, "Wait a minute."

She stopped, she did, and turned, lifting one of those eyebrows at him. She was peeved at him, but that he'd already known.

"I'm okay." He told her.

"Maybe, but you are screwed up, Messer."

"Ah."

"You were shot at? I saw the pictures when they came in and the measurements. I know the height of that thick skull of yours. Did you think I couldn't do the math myself? The guy shot at your head. I know it is thick, Danny, but its not going to stop a bullet."

"Montana."

"You have been shot before, Danny. You were shot."

Her lips closed tight and she stared at him. For a moment he nearly missed it, but then he saw it. She was going to cry. His Montana never cried. Well she never cried until this past year. Not like this, and not over him. She was swallowing hard. She turned and walked away from him.

Danny sighed. He went back, grabbed the ointment, and he followed. He knew where she was going to go. It was the only place where she could find peace and quiet.

He found her on the roof again. He walked over and stood in front of her, holding the ointment in his hands.

"I'm sorry," he said gently.

"I know." But she did not look at him.

"He was an idiot, Montana. I know it seems bad, but we're okay, Flack and I."

"Danny," she looked at him this time. "I heard how you thought about it and what you said. I saw the photos and I've read the report. The guy shot at you. Whatever the result, you did not follow the correct procedure."

"But."

"But there is a procedure." She held out her hand. "Let me put some of that on for you."

He grinned despite himself. "You're going to play doctor."

She shot him a steely look as she unscrewed the cap.

"Ah. Maybe mortician?"

After a recent case, that at least brought out a small smile. Now that, he thought, was his Montana.

She reached up and spread the ointment on his lip. He jerked back. "Owe." He worked his lip. "That's the strong stuff."

"Oh, do not wine about it. It could be worse."

When she reached up again with more, he leaned back. "I think I'll be ok without it."

"I think you'll be still and do as your told." But she smiled a little. "Maybe we can play doctor later if you're a good patient now."

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?"

"If Lucy broke the rules, do I forgive her?"

"Yes." He winced as she applied the ointment near his eye. "But. I hear a but. But she gets time out, relegated for her age. So she's two, so her timeout is two minutes. I'm thirty eight. When does my timeout start."

"You're an idiot Messer." She stepped back and screwed the lid back on the ointment. She looked down at her watch. "Find me in Thirty-seven minutes."

He grinned at her.

"But remember, Lucy has to apologize, too. For what rule she broke."

He could not help but grin at her.

"You better make the apology good."


End file.
